Upside Down and Backwards
by KisstheRain14
Summary: Just because the old nursery rhyme says things have to go a certain way, doesn't mean they will. And especially not in the case of one Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. /modern!fic, being rewritten/
1. Prologue

**If you're still with me for this story, I honestly have no words. Thank you so much for your devotion, persistence, or bland interest, whatever your motivations may be. I can't promise that this attempt will be spectacular, but I can say that it'll be much more coherent and well-written than the previous attempt.  
**

**Again, I'm so sorry, and thank you for sticking with me thus far. I hope I don't disappoint again.**

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_2008_

Darcy checked his watch for the thirteenth time, a frown forming on his face as he noted that she was now thirty six minutes late. Charlie had warned her about this, had told him that she had a propensity for being a little disorganized, but he didn't think it'd be this bad. He put down his novel and sighed, reaching up to loosen the knot of his tie.

His doorbell rang just as his fingertips reached the silk and he sighed again, feeling a dispassionate sort of irritation as he moved towards his front door. Really, he could forgive ten minutes' wait, but nearly forty was just ridiculous. He had half a mind to tell her so, too, when he swung open the door. He opened his mouth, ready to say _something,_ when he was abruptly cut off.

"God, I'm so sorry, I had this meeting that ran terribly overtime, and I couldn't get out of it without a good excuse, and of course a _blind date_ is definitely not a good excuse to give to the principal, so I had to sit there as he droned on and on and... and yeah." The woman brushed her bangs out of her eyes and looked up at him, cheeks turning a bright pink as she realized he was staring at her. "I'm sorry, I have this tendency to ramble when I'm in an uncomfortable position, much like this one, actually, since you're just kind of standing there not saying anything - "

"Come in," Darcy managed, remembering his manners. The woman gave him a grateful smile and he absently took note of how her slim face seemed to glow when she did so. Then he shook his head, called himself crazy, and blamed it on the porch light.

"I'm Lizzie," she said, sticking out a hand. "Lizzie Bennet. But then again, you already know that." The little grimace on the edge of her lips told her exactly what she thought about this forced date.

Darcy shook her hand gingerly, flipping through his memory. "Uh... I was expecting Elizabeth, but I'm sure I can remember the nickname. It's quite common, after all."

She gave him a strange look but nodded, fiddling with her purse strap. "So... what exactly are we doing?"

He checked his watch yet again. "I had a reservation for seven o'clock, but seeing as how it's almost eight, I don't think they're still holding the table." His tone held a hint of blame in it and she caught it, arching an eyebrow at him but refraining from comment.

"Right. Well then, I'm sure McDonald's is open," she said. He blinked at her, a furrow appearing between his brows. "It was a joke," she added, voice slow and exaggerated.

His face didn't straighten. "Okay... Maybe we can go to the restaurant anyway, they might have an open table."

"Or we could... I don't know, order take out." He glanced at her face, expecting to see humor, but frowned when he realized she was being serious. "I haven't eaten since nine in the morning, so I'm starving for anything. And Chinese sounds a lot better than some fancy place where I have to keep a cloth napkin in my lap and eat like I have the appetite of a rabbit. Besides, it's a blind date, we shouldn't have to try too hard."

He scrambled to find words. "Uh, I'm going to be completely honest here, I don't really do the whole ordering in thing for dates. It's just not - not classy, or whatever you'd like to call it. I think it'd be much better if we had some structure here. I'll call the restaurant and see if they still have an open table. It'll take some time, but I'm sure a few minutes won't matter to you anyway. If it's free, we can - "

His plan and her impending objection were interrupted by his cell phone going off. He drew it out of his pocket with an expression similar to that of a drowning man seeing a lifeboat. "William Darcy speaking."

Lizzie, on her part, simply rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to her other foot, taken aback by the way he was dominating their plans. She _would_ mind if they had to wait for a long time for a restaurant she probably wouldn't like anyway, especially since Chinese was much faster and the lone granola bar in her stomach was feeling extremely lonely. She sighed and looked around the foyer listlessly, taking in the dark wood furnishings and modern decor. She shivered, feeling a chill that came from more than just the air conditioning vents.

"At home, we haven't... no, she's just arrived." Lizzie tuned back into his conversation as she realized he was talking about her. He shot her a furtive look and paced towards the staircase, resting an arm against the banister.

"_My God, she's late,"_ a tinny female voice shrieked from the cell phone. Lizzie's eyebrows rose once again. "_That's ridiculous, she has no sense of common courtesy - _"

"Yes, well... Look, I have to go, I'll talk to you later."

"_Wait, are you busy later tonight? It's only eight; maybe we can meet up later? Let's say ten thirty._"

Lizzie scoffed and tucked her hair behind her ear, giving Darcy an open look of disbelief. He pretended not to notice and shifted away from her, lowering his voice a few notches. "Yeah, I can do that. Yeah - yeah, ten o'clock sounds good. Yeah. Okay, see you then."

"Are you kidding me?" Her voice was more incredulous than offended, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs. "You do realize that I could hear what she was saying? And even if I couldn't, it's just - just rude to schedule a date right after another one, albeit being a blind date!"

"Showing up forty minutes late to an appointment is pretty rude too," he pointed out, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"I was stuck in a meeting! You had every right - no, you should have had the _common courtesy_ to say no!"

"Excuse me, but I don't feel like extending the 'common courtesy' to a woman I met five minutes ago, no less a woman who has already left a bad impression because of her tardiness!"

Lizzie let out a short laugh. "Look, buddy, I'm a high school teacher. I know exactly what unexcused tardiness is, and I can definitely say that a meeting with _my boss_ is an excused tardy!"

"Regardless, I'm trying my best to actually make this night work, but you want to order Chinese food and ruin the whole thing from the get go - "

"Actually, ordering in would be more efficient, not to mention probably more appetizing than whatever mess of vegetables your beloved restaurant wants to serve me."

Darcy took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lizzie watched with grudging fascination, as she'd never seen anyone actually do that before. "Okay, this was probably a bad idea from the start."

"What?"

"This." He motioned between himself and Lizzie. "I don't know what Charlie or Jane were thinking, but obviously we're not compatible at all. I told Charlie I didn't want to be fixed up..."

"Yeah, well, neither did I. I just did this to make Jane happy." Lizzie felt a swell of frustration crash over her head. "So... you can run into the arms of your - your lover now, or whoever the hell she is - "

"She's Caroline Bingley, Charlie's sister," Darcy snapped. "I don't have lovers, contrary to what you may believe - "

"Right, because the very word 'lover' implies feelings of in general, actually, which you don't seem to possess." She suddenly felt like she was suffocating. She turned on her heel and yanked the front door open, stumbling only slightly on the corner of the mat. "Obviously this was a total mistake. If things go well, we'll never see each other again. Have a nice life, Billy."

She slammed the door behind her, leaving him speechless as he stared after her.

No one had ever called him Billy before.


	2. Chapter 1

_**READ THIS PLEASE.**_

**Okay, so lots of people seem to be a bit confused about this. Sorry, that's my fault; I wasn't clear. I'll try to clean things up here.**

**This story is still going to be about how "First comes love, second comes marriage, third comes a baby in the baby carriage," gets screwed up with Lizzie and Darcy. And yes, as I said in my (now deleted) AN, I am drawing inspiration from the movie Life As We Know It. Other than that, expect everything to be different from the first draft of this.**

**Thank you all for taking such an active interest in this story! Please feel free to PM me or review with any more questions :)**

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_One Hour Earlier - 2008_

Okay, so in his defense, Darcy had _not_ signed up for this. He hadn't even wanted to go on a blind date, for Chrissake. He'd just wanted to go home, heat up whatever Mrs. Reynolds had left him, and watch a bad sitcom, like always. But no, apparently Charlie thought his life needed to be injected with femininity, or some stupid shit like that, anyway. So as Darcy had been leaving work that night, Charlie had shown up in _his _car and insisted on driving him somewhere.

"Where are we going?" Darcy had asked, squinting suspiciously. "Hey, be careful, that's Italian leather. Dammit, Charles, what did I say about commandeering my cars?"

"Not to," Charlie responded glibly, sucking down more soda. "Just get in, Will, I promise you'll have fun."

"Have - no, I don't want to have fun, I want to get home."

Charlie had wrestled Darcy into the car eventually and sped off, humming like nothing was wrong and steadfastly ignoring his friend's glowers. All had been going well until Charlie's phone rang. He slipped on the Bluetooth headset and answered, smile widening (if that was possible). "Jane?" Darcy fought back a groan. He definitely did not want to be subjected to the mindless chatter of a couple in love.

"What do you mean, she's going to be late? So... oh. She... hmm. He's not going to like that much. No, I know, it's just - yeah. Okay. I love you. No, I'll be home soon. Okay, bye."

"Please tell me that phone call had nothing to do with me," Darcy intoned, resting an elbow against the windowsill and pressing his palm against his forehead.

"It did," Charlie replied, voice still as cheery as ever. "It turns out that your date is going to be late. She says to go ahead and stay at home instead of waiting in front of her workplace; she'll come to you. Jane apologizes; apparently she's very disorganized. She's lovely though, I've met her once or twice. I think you'll like her. She's very funny."

"You're rambling," Darcy said automatically, knowing his friend had a tendency to do that when nervous. Then his wits caught up with Charlie's words and he whipped around, eyes practically spitting fire. "My _date?__"_

(x)

Okay, so in her defense, Lizzie had _not_ signed up for this. She just wanted to curl up on her couch with a mug of hot chocolate, a stack of papers, and her favorite red pen, with maybe some Billy Joel playing in the background. But no, apparently, Jane wanted to use her as a guinea pig in some sick social experiment. She should have called 911 as soon as the scheme left Jane's pretty pink lips. Hell, she should've run for the hills. But no, she'd let Jane talk her way into her heart and get her way, like an amateur.

_An _amateur_, Elizabeth!_ Lizzie seethed internally, writing down Principal Beckert's last comment with a little more force than necessary. It was nearing the ten-minutes-before-date mark and whereas she didn't feel particularly inclined to make a good impression, she had some basic courtesy. She stealthily took out her phone and sent a warning text to Jane: _Gonna be way late. Tell the guy I'll meet him at his place for a casual sort of night, please? We won't get along, anyway._

All right, so she had courtesy for everyone but the current speaker. But Beckert was as blind as he was boring, and definitely didn't notice her quick text. Besides, half the other faculty members were either dozing or using their phones too, from the looks of it. Her phone buzzed in her lap after a few minutes and she checked it from her purse, feeling very much like the high schoolers she taught.

_From Jane Bennet: You don't know that. And okay, I called Charlie. But Darcy won't take kindly to the whole casual thing, I think._

_From Lizzie Bennet: This Darcy guy sounds kind of, uh, strict. But okay... although I can't promise good behavior if I get out of his meeting half-dead._

_From Jane Bennet: Fair enough. I think Charlie made a reservation for you two though._

_Lizzie: You're joking. I'm going to be running really late._

_Jane: Then you'll miss the reservation, order Chinese food instead, and get your casual night by happenstance. Everyone wins, right?_

_Lizzie: Remind me why I agreed to this?_

_Jane: Because you and Darcy both need a better social life. And because Charlie wants Darcy to, quote, stop wandering around like a puppy without an owner, and needed someone to fix him up with who wasn't a hooker or golddigger, endquote. And because you owe me for ruining those curtains._

_Lizzie: ... Okay, I highly disagree with the first point. My social life is thriv -_

"Ms. Bennet? Something you'd like to share?" Beckert's reedy voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up, a traitorous warmth spreading through her cheeks.

"None at all, sir. Please, continue what you were saying about the, um, waxing of the gym floors."

Lizzie sighed as the principal turned away. It was going to be a long night.

(x)

_2012_

The snuffling cries of Nathaniel Bingley echoed through the household as Lizzie took the cake out from the refrigerator. Jane immediately dropped the tub of ice cream onto the counter top and rushed to the adjoining room, picking up her crying child and cooing at him as she brought him back to his aunt. "Oh, has my boy woken up from his nap?" she murmured, patting Nathaniel's back as he hiccuped through his last few sobs. "Don't worry, we're about to celebrate your birthday soon."

"Except you'll get milk and we'll get the good stuff," Lizzie said, a wicked expression blooming across her face as she tapped her nephew's nose with a finger. "I can't believe he's already a year old, it feels like you and Charlie got married only yesterday," she added to her sister, taking the cake out of its box.

"Three years really do fly," Jane responded, voice blissful. "It's been perfect."

"Yeah yeah, you with your happy relationships," Lizzie said, only half-teasing.

"I'm sure you'll find someone who makes you unbelievably happy, Lizzie," Jane said, a sympathetic tilt appearing at the corner of her mouth.

Lizzie shook her head resolutely. "Nope. The only man I need in my life is this one right here," she said, reaching over to pluck Nathaniel from his mother's arms. "Right, Nathan? You're so adorable." The baby gurgled and showed Lizzie a toothless grin, reaching out to tug at her hair and laughing as she winced. Jane pursed her lips but refrained from comment, instead opening a cabinet in search of plates. The front door opened and two sets of feet tramped into the foyer, deeper voices echoing around the spacious house.

"I'm telling you, she's insane. Insane." Lizzie scowled as Darcy's displeased voice came closer. "I don't think I can handle another moment in her company."

"She can't be that bad," Charlie said, voice dubious. "She _is_ your godmother."

"No, she's an evil bitter harpy that absolutely no one can stand." The two men rounded the corner and entered the kitchen; Charlie dropped a kiss on the corner of Jane's mouth while Lizzie shot Darcy a dirty look by force of sheer habit. He raised an eyebrow at her before moving over to take a chip from a bowl on the counter. Lizzie smacked his hand away. "Why can't I have one?"

"Because it's for the party, and I'm moving it to the dining room. Speaking of which, help me carry everything."

"It's _one chip,_ I don't understand why you think Armageddon would break out if - "

"I never said anything about the end of the world, it's just better if you wait for a few minutes before you start eating so everyone can eat together."

"That's stupid; I've been setting up the tables outside and I'm starving."

"You're going to have to wait."

"Elizabeth. It's one chip."

"If you really are starving, you'll take more. And _don't_ call me that."

"I won't. And it's your _name._"

The front door opened and shut, and the loud voice of Richard Fitzwilliam filled the foyer. "I walk into the house and the first thing I hear is bickering. How typical." His grinning face soon accompanied his voice and he went immediately to Nathaniel, tossing the wrapped gift in his hands to the counter and taking the baby out of Jane's hands. "Why _hello_ there, love. How are you today?" The British lilt to his voice made the words all the more charming and Nathaniel gurgled, reaching out to grab at Richard's nose. "Frisky, aren't you?"

Richard had grown up and lived in England until after college. He then moved out to the United States to take joint control over the American branch of Darcy Corporations along with Darcy himself. The two men were cousins on Darcy's mother's side, and got along surprisingly well for how different their personalities were. Richard and Lizzie had bonded almost instantly over a mutual love of making fun of Darcy, but their relationship had quickly turned into a deeper friendship than simply Darcy-ridiculing (although that remained their favorite pastime).

There was a general murmur of greeting from the others and Richard turned to face Lizzie and Darcy, the grin turning into a mock solemn expression. "What're you two fighting about now?"

"She won't let me eat," Darcy replied, giving up on his quest and sitting down at a bar stool. Lizzie stuck out her tongue at him and started ferrying plates to the other room. "Really mature," he added in response.

"Have you two ever gotten along?" Charlie asked, managing to steal a stick of celery.

Darcy thought for a moment. "Once we both wanted pancakes instead of waffles."

"Oh."

"I can't believe he's turning one," Richard said, handing Nathaniel back to Jane. "It's strange, thinking about it. And then Lizzie-bear here doesn't even have a husband, despite my many proposals." He heaved a sigh.

"We'd accidentally kill each other and burn the house down to boot," she called from the other room. He smirked.

"This is very true. Besides, who wants to get married? Ick. Disgusting. Bad." He made a face at Nathaniel, who shrieked in appreciation.

"Okay, don't go teaching my son your loose morals, now," Jane laughed, balancing said son on her hip as she glanced at the clock. "It's almost two o'clock, Charlie, the guests will be arriving soon."

"Guests? You mean we're not enough for you?" Richard asked, now squishing Nathaniel's cheeks.

"It's just the neighbors, don't panic," Charlie said, watching bemusedly. "What... are you doing?"

"He has the biggest cheeks ever. They're so fun to stretch. Look, look how funny he looks."

"How _old_ are you?" Darcy asked, looking genuinely worried. "Nathaniel is more mature than you sometimes, really."

"You're so damn concerned about maturity; loosen up!" Lizzie said, pointing a finger in his direction. "You're annoying."

"I'm concerned about maturity, Elizabeth, because I'm the only one who _is_ mature."

"Right, as opposed to the married couple with a child," Charlie snorted. "She's right, Will. Loosen up a little today at the party, all right? Talk to a few girls."

Richard actually laughed at that. "Will, talking to girls? I don't think that's even possible."

The doorbell rang, cutting off Darcy's very pained attempt to argue that statement. Soon the house was filling with people and food and the cries of various children as the inhabitants of Netherfield Street gathered to celebrate Nathaniel's birthday. Lizzie flitted around making sure people were getting to the refreshments and that the children weren't fighting and that the party was going smoothly enough for Jane and Charlie to relax. Will stood in the corner and tried not to make the babies cry.

"Darcy. Seriously. Have some fun," Richard said under the chorus of voices singing happy birthday to Nathaniel as Lizzie brought the cake out.

"Please tell me that's wine," Darcy said instead, eyeing the cup in Richard's hand.

"Nah. Grape juice."

"God." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can I pretend there's an emergency at the office?"

"No, you socially awkward tit. Go talk to Lizzie if you have to, just try to look happy."

"I am happy. I like being with Nathaniel, I really do. It's just - there are too many people here," Darcy hissed, narrowly avoiding a frantic mother in search of napkins. "I wish it was just us and Charlie and Jane and Nathaniel. Elizabeth if necessary."

"Oh please. You and I both know you could very easily fancy Lizzie."

"Fa - is that English slang for 'have a crush on'?"

"You want her to have your children."

"It went to hell four years ago, in case you don't recall."

"Second chances are fantastic for the health, I've heard."

"I'm not interested," Darcy said firmly. "She and I are from... totally different circles. I dislike her personality as much as she dislikes mine, and I'm content to leave it that way. It's not like we're going to be forced to get along."

"It'd just be a lot nicer for everyone if you weren't at each other's throats all the time," Richard reasoned.

"It'd also be a lot nicer for everyone if world hunger didn't exist."

(x)

Lizzie stretched her legs out on the sofa and breathed a deep sigh, muscles falling limp after a long day at Jane's house. Darcy had been insufferable, as always, but she'd learned to get by it as best as she could a long time ago. More exhausting, however, had been the constant barrage of questions from nosy neighbors. It was like her mother had replicated herself and stationed the clones in all of the neighborhood houses, ready to spy on her daughters despite living half a dozen states away. She couldn't count the number of times she'd been asked if she was single, nor could she forget the judgmental look on all their faces when she replied in the negative. But so what if she was single? She wanted to focus on her career, on making enough money to support herself before even thinking about adding another person to her life. The heavy pour of rain that had started early that afternoon drummed against her windows, providing a depressing background to her thoughts.

She sat up and pulled the stack of essays on her coffee table closer to her in irritation, aiming to lose herself in her work. Besides, she had over seventy essays to grade in less than a week, and it wasn't particularly easy to get through them even on the best of days.

She had just settled into a comfortable rhythm when her phone rang, startling in the quiet of the small apartment. Cursing at the lurid red streak her pen had made across the sheet of paper in her jerk of surprise, she scrambled for the device. An unknown number flashed across her screen. Frowning, she picked up with a questioning, "Hello?"

The furrow in her brow only deepened as the man on the other end spoke. "I'm looking for an Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Yes, this is she."

"I'm afraid we'll need you to come to the Meryton police station immediately. There's been... there's been an accident."

"If this is about George Wickham, I'd like to state once again that he is my _student_ and that I don't have any familial relations to him, despite what he may say."

"No, Miss Bennet." She could sense the officer's hesitation over the line. "The matter concerns Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley. You're listed as an emergency contact in case of - "

"Jane and Charlie?" Lizzie felt her breath constrict. "What happened? Where are they?"

"Miss Bennet, you need to come down to the - "

"I'll be there in five minutes, but - but sir, _please_ tell me what happened."

"Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bingley were in an automobile accident. Their car skidded on the highway and the rain... They crashed into the railing." There was a horrible pause. "Their child, Nathaniel, was not in the car at this time. He is now in the care of Child Protective Services. They handle cases like this."

"What cases?"

The officer was silent for another moment. Then, heavily: "Orphaned children."

When Darcy arrived at the police station twenty minutes later, he found her sitting on the front steps of the building. Without a word, he drew her up into a tight embrace, in which she finally started to cry.


	3. Chapter 2

**It's been a really long time, hasn't it? I'm so sorry for the delay. I know I left it at an especially terrible time :( But here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy, and sorry again for the long wait.**

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Rain streaked down the windows of the Bingley house as Darcy sighed into his cell phone. "Yes, I understand it's after hours, but Nathaniel is... No, I'm not a relative, but - no, I'm his _godfather,_ and I have his aunt with me, surely that counts for something. ... Yes, I can be reached at this number. No, I'd rather... Fine. Yes, all right. Good night."

He tossed the phone onto the sofa next to Lizzie. "CPS won't let us pick him up until eight in the morning tomorrow."

Lizzie watched a few rain drops race to the bottom of the pane in lieu of an answer. She clutched her own phone in her fist, dreading the moment when it would start to ring. The police had called the Bennet residence a few hours ago and she herself had left a message; it was only a matter of time before her parents heard the news.

The house was still the way Jane had left it. Lizzie found that inexplicable, had expected some sort of fundamental change to seep in. But half-folded laundry still rested on the kitchen table and toys still littered the floor, suspended and incomplete. The laundry would not ever be fully folded in the same way, nor would the toys be picked up and put away by the usual hands. Charlie's coat would hang in the foyer, collar slightly crooked, and Jane's credit cards would lie scattered across the counter long after they were canceled. Lizzie didn't pay attention to any of these details. All she could feel was the steady thump of her pulse, loud as it echoed through her veins.

Darcy followed his phone onto the couch and Lizzie shook off her stupor, turning to face him but not quite meeting his eyes. "We should bring Nathaniel here tomorrow. He doesn't recognize anywhere else."

He nodded, tired. "All right. I guess... I'll take the guest bedroom, you can... you can take their - "

"God, no." The words punctured the air with surprising force and Lizzie bowed her head. "No. I'll sleep on the couch."

"No." His voice was steadier than hers. "I'll sleep here. You take the bed."

She felt the urge to argue, as always, but it was quickly stifled by the exhaustion that seemed to seep from her bones. "Fine."

Darcy nodded, then started towards the bathroom. He hesitated by the doorway, half-turning his face as if to say something to Lizzie. She stiffened, and after a beat he left without a word.

She covered her mouth and tried not to cry.

(x)

They picked up Nathaniel and pulled into the driveway just as another car arrived in front of the house. Lizzie unbuckled Nathaniel's car seat and hoisted the now-sleeping baby into her arms, moving to intercept the stranger before he rang the doorbell. "Can I help you?" she asked, striving for polite and arriving somewhere in the middle of wary. She didn't want to have to break the news to a random acquaintance, especially a day after the accident, and Darcy's silence was testing her nerves.

The stranger, far from looking surprised, merely shifted his briefcase to the other hand. "Ah. Ms. Bennet, I assume? Mrs. Bingley's sister?"

Lizzie frowned. "Yes. Who are you?" She saw Darcy shift behind her.

"I'm the Bingley lawyer. Jonas Gardiner. Surely you were expecting me?" The man blinked and looked down, then back up. "I'm here to discuss their will."

_Well, that makes it sound final,_ Lizzie thought. She glanced back at Darcy, feeling a little out of her depth. He took the hint and cleared his throat, stepping forward. "Let's go inside and discuss this," he said, seemingly unruffled. Lizzie adjusted her grip on Nathaniel and followed Darcy into the house.

The dining room was sunny and warm. Nathaniel snuffled in his crib after Lizzie set him down in the adjacent room and patted his back a little. Mr. Gardiner set his briefcase down on the table and opened it, retrieving several thick documents and laying them out before Darcy and Lizzie. The sunlight slanted over the small print.

"This is the entirety of their will, but obviously, not all of it pertains to you." Lizzie rifled through the first few pages of the nearest packet. She felt dull, disinterested. What did she care about what Jane and Charlie had left behind? They shouldn't have had to leave in the first place, not yet. Not so soon. She pushed the document away and leaned back, arms folding.

Mr. Gardiner continued: "What we're most concerned with today is the guardianship of Nathaniel Bingley."

Admittedly, that caught Lizzie's attention.

"Now, the will is very clear. I understand that neither one of you has a home suitable for more than one person, so you'll be happy to know that this house is fully paid off. Therefore, you'll be able to live here without any additional cost. If you're able to sell your current homes at agreeable prices, then - "

"I - sorry, what?" Lizzie straightened. "What do you mean, sell our current homes? I have an extra room that I can convert into a nursery; I'm more than capable of taking care of Nathan."

"You, take care of a baby on your own?" Darcy turned to stare at her. "Can you even feed _yourself_? I'm obviously more capable of caring for him, I had Ana to care for, not to mention how my salary significantly outweighs yours - "

"Wow, sorry I'm not rich enough to afford a mansion, Darcy. Just shut up, Nathan is definitely coming into my care, he's my _nephew_. Besides, I'll have my family and my salary is _plenty_ adequate enough - "

"I'm sorry," broke in Mr. Gardiner, looking mildly surprised, "didn't Jane or Charlie tell you what they had in their will?"

"Is there a specific clause?" Darcy asked, irritated.

"Well... yes. I'm terribly sorry, I thought you would have been informed..." Mr. Gardiner wrung his hands. "It says here that Elizabeth Bennet and William Darcy are to have joint custody of Nathaniel Charles Bingley, provided that both parties are still alive and in good health upon the death of Mr. and Mrs. Bingley." He scrutinized them both, and Lizzie honestly couldn't tell if the man was attempting to make a joke when he said, "You both look in perfect health to me."

There was a moment of silence before Lizzie started laughing. Darcy gave her an incredulous stare. "God, I'm so sorry, but - " she broke out laughing again - "you've got to be joking. We can't - I mean, we can't _stand_ each other. How would we raise a child together?"

Darcy's brow furrowed. "Isn't there a way to break the clause?"

Mr. Gardiner perused the will again, lips pursing. "I suppose so, yes, but it'd require extensive study and quite possibly involve shady loopholes in the law." Lizzie felt reality break down around her shoulders and suddenly all her laughs left her. Her gaze drifted across the room to where Nathaniel was sleeping quietly, pain erupting in her chest again. His life had been ripped away at the age of one year old, and his only saving grace was that he would not remember much of his parents. And what a terrible saving grace that was.

_What are you doing putting me with Darcy, Jane?_

"I think it'd be best for all involved if everything were to follow the directions laid out in the will." Mr. Gardiner interrupted her train of thought delicately, gaze now fixed on the two in front of him. Darcy's hands flattened against the surface of the table, sunlight warming the wood under his palms. He could remember every time he'd succumbed to a laugh at this table, Charlie's grin bright as day across from him as Jane's laugh swept across the room with his. Nathaniel had flipped a bowl of rice at this table and Darcy had fought a smile as Lizzie's startled expression had bloomed across her face. Every damn room in this house was full of them, the ghosts of the dearly departed who'd left so suddenly, not so long ago. Yet Nathaniel remained.

Mr. Gardiner watched as the couple's gazes met, watched as their shoulders bowed forward and heads tipped down.

"We have a lot of life readjustment to do."

(x)

The funeral was the worst experience of Lizzie's life. Her mother and sisters had been inconsolable, her father silent and steadily drinking. Nathaniel had cried during the entire ceremony despite Lizzie's attempts to get him to sleep, earning her more than a few stares. And worst of all, Darcy had not left her side the whole time.

Back at the Bingley house, hoards of people in black had left dishes of food in the kitchen. Mrs. Bennet's hysterical weeping had been heard in all corners of the house, even muffled in her husband's vest. Now all was quiet, but the ghosts of had-been still pressed in on Lizzie as she surveyed the mess left behind by the guests. Nathaniel still fussed in her arms. The stress of hosting the grim event, keeping Nathaniel quiet, and trying to hold in her own grief weighed on Lizzie until she felt her head about to burst; that was when Darcy took Nathaniel from her arms and into his own.

"Darcy, I - "

"Sit down," he ordered, voice softer than normal. He let Nathaniel tug on his hair, the baby's shrieks of amusement garishly out of place. "And take your shoes off. Your feet look tortured."

For once, she did as she was told. She collapsed into a dining room chair, walls insulating the three of them from the rest of the world. Darcy stood opposite her, patting Nathaniel to sleep. She watched the baby's tiny body blankly, mind jamming. How on earth was she supposed to _raise_ him, the tiny human being born of Jane and Charlie and the only thing of theirs left on this earth? How was she supposed to shoulder that burden? She felt like the goddamn Titan she taught to her Classical Lit students, Atlas straining under the weight of the sky, except she didn't know what she'd done wrong, didn't know what she was being punished for.

Darcy watched her as she watched Nathaniel. The house was cavernous, too quiet and all too ominous. "Get some sleep," he said, out of lack of other things to say. "I'll clean up downstairs."

"Have you ever cleaned a room in your life?" she snapped. Both of them recoiled. "I'm... sorry, Will. I just - I..."

"It's all right." He avoided her gaze. Nathaniel snuffled, pressing his face into Darcy's neck. "Did you... bring your things?"

"Yeah. Yeah I did." She'd also given her landlord her keys back, avoiding a full explanation and instead muttering something about having to move back with her family. Now all her worldly possessions were either in storage or thrown into the suitcases still in the foyer of this house. "I have papers to grade," she added, the silence starting to feel oppressive.

Darcy frowned. "I thought you got a leave of absence."

"It's been a week. I need to go back." She knew he'd understand; out of everyone she knew, he'd best understand the oblivion that came from burying oneself in work. As she expected, he nodded and let the subject go.

"Ana's coming in three days." Despite being a busy undergraduate student, Ana had insisted that being an aunt came first. Lizzie realized how odd it must be for her, to learn that she was to be an aunt through law with no warning beforehand. Darcy had protested the visit over the phone call yesterday, insisting that university work came first, but stubbornness seemed to be an inherited trait. She'd be in town for just a few days, acquainting herself with the baby she'd only seen a few times before.

"Where is she going to stay?" Lizzie asked, belatedly realizing that there were only two bedrooms in the house. She doubted that Ana would want to sleep in the master bedroom, for the same reasons that Lizzie and Darcy still had not set foot in there.

"I still have my apartment, so she's staying there. Although I expect she'll camp out here at least once. She has a habit of falling asleep when most inconvenient."

Lizzie's black dress felt too tight against her skin and she stood, heels toppling against each other. "I'm going to change," she said abruptly, realizing that Darcy had somehow gotten Nathaniel to fall asleep. He nodded, gaze on her back as she picked up her suitcase and went upstairs.

She dumped the contents of her bags on the guest bed, rummaging through the mess to find comfortable clothes. Her fingers trailed across a sweater that belonged to Jane, along with a pair of ballet flats she remembered filching as Jane laughed at her inability to be sneaky. Her best friend and sister was gone, but she was somehow still here in small things like these. Lizzie didn't know whether she wanted to keep remembering or forget completely.

In the end, she slid into her own sweatshirt but slipped on the flats.

She went back downstairs and found Darcy in the kitchen, refrigerator doors open and casserole dishes scattered about. "Too many people brought too many things," he muttered, trying to fit a pan of lasagna under a pot of soup. Lizzie silently reorganized the adjacent containers to clear some space, and soon the dishes were all put away.

"Where's Nathaniel?" she asked as she shut the doors.

"Sleeping in his downstairs crib." Darcy turned to look at her then, leaning against the counter. "Are you going back to work on Monday, then?"

"Yes. I have to. Can you care for him until I get back?"

"I... suppose. Is this going to be an every day thing?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know you've been to high school. Yes, Darcy, I'm going to be out of the house from six till three every weekday."

"And you expect me to stay home that entire time? I have a job too, Elizabeth. In fact, you could quit your job and I could still support the three of us. That's a better idea than me staying home."

She rubbed at her eyes, frustrated. "I'm not quitting my job and letting you do all the work. Besides, it's almost summer vacation. Now, I can't bring him to the high school, and I'm guessing you can't bring him to the office. Can't you work from home? You're a chief whatsit - "

"Chief Financial Officer."

" - can't you dictate your own work schedule?"

"No, Elizabeth," he said, using the patient voice that aggravated her so much, "I meet with others on a daily basis. I cannot be absent from my office."

"Well, we're not getting a nanny for him. I refuse to have Nathaniel raised by a stranger so soon after - " Lizzie choked on her words and went silent.

"Richard works from home," Darcy offered after a moment. "All he needs is a computer and his cell phone."

Lizzie bit her lip. Richard was admittedly better than a random nanny, but she still felt guilty about leaving Nathaniel for so long. "Will Richard even want to?"

"Oh, he'll want to. A better question is if we can trust him with a baby for hours on end." Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit that Lizzie was still fascinated by. "This house is closer to my office than my apartment so I can probably leave at eight thirty. You'll be back at three, which means six and a half hours every weekday. Let me call Richard."

He did so while Lizzie wandered over to the sleeping Nathaniel. She stroked his fuzz of hair as Darcy's low voice filled the connected spaces. "It's nearly May," Lizzie whispered to Nathaniel, a knot of guilt rising in her chest at the prospect of leaving him during the week. "And once it's May, there's only a month and a half until school ends. That's when I'll stay with you every day, all right? I promise."

_I promise._


	4. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry about the incredibly late update! Life has kind of been kicking me in the ass lately.**

**I would also like to apologize for the large number of page breaks in this chapter. There's not a whole lot of plot development, but I'm trying to air out different views.**

**If you guys want to keep in touch with me then you can find me on my tumblr, jamesstruttingpotter :) I'm much more likely to answer messages there than PMs here.**

* * *

"Miss Bennet? Miss Bennet. Am I right or is Keith right?"

Lizzie started, turning away from the whiteboard in front of her. Twenty curious faces stared back at her in the hazy glow of the projector. "Yes, Maria, you're correct," she managed to say, mind working furiously to pick up where it'd left off. "The Anti-Transcendentialist movement grew out of the Transcendentialists."

"But can't you argue that it extended even further? I mean, they were pretty depressed about everything, not just nature," Keith appealed. "It was more like... man had a bad effect on nature, so mankind is bad, whereas the Transcendentialists said that nature was good so mankind is good. It's backwards."

"Who else thinks this is a valid point?" Lizzie asked, watching a few hands shoot up. "All right, then, anyone want to elaborate or refute that?"

This was the great thing about teaching AP classes, Lizzie decided as at least three voices chimed in. The class practically taught itself.

Alright, so that wasn't an excuse for zoning out, but there were two minutes left in the period and she was fucking _tired._

The bell thankfully signaled lunch and Lizzie collapsed in her seat ($27 at Target, with memory gel _and_ wheels, booyah) just as Charlotte wandered in. "I swear to God I will murder that twitchy little asshole one day," she commented lightly, perching on a student desk across from Lizzie.

"George? He's not that bad," Lizzie said.

"Uh, yeah he is. He kept throwing pen caps at Lana Gunner today. Nearly made the poor girl cry."

Lizzie declined comment, instead choosing to focus on her valiant struggle to stay awake.

Charlotte made a sympathetic clucking noise that made Lizzie think of her mother. "Is Nathaniel keeping you up?"

Lizzie buried her face in her arms, groaning as she felt her hair frizz and fall out of its bun. "Every three hours."

"Tell Darcy to take care of it."

"We take turns. The crying still wakes me up every time though."

"Shouldn't babies start sleeping through the night at around this time?"

Lizzie stiffened. "I guess. He misses Jane."

Charlotte stilled too. "Oh. Oh Lizzie. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she replied mechanically. And it was, kind of. She felt numb by now, cut off from all sensation but the heavy weight of grief slung across her shoulders. It was her first day back at work and she was trying to bury herself in teaching, something Principal Beckert had seemed to realize. He had called her into his office before homeroom started and Lizzie had slunk in, feeling very much like she was a student instead of a paid teacher.

"You sure you're alright, Bennet?" he'd asked, staring at her intently. "It's only been a few days."

"I'm fine, sir," she'd replied, shoulders straight. "I want to come back. I miss everyone."

"If you're sure. I'm willing to give you a week or so off."

It had been a tempting offer, what with Nathaniel to take care of. But Lizzie suspected that she'd use the week to stay in bed, listless and lacking the energy to care for herself, much less a baby. Besides, her financial situation was looking dire (babies were expensive) and she point blank refused to lean on Darcy for help, shared child or not.

"I'm alright, truly." A well timed glance at the clock had saved her. "There's only a minute or so before homeroom, so if you'll excuse me..."

He'd let her go, but she had been careful to perform at her very best the whole day, sure he was keeping tabs.

"I'm going to go get a sandwich," Charlotte said, breaking into Lizzie's thoughts. "You want?"

"Nah. I'll see you during seventh period break, okay?"

"Cool." Charlotte left the room and Lizzie tapped her fingernails against her desk, staring at the black phone next to her computer.

She lasted approximately 3.7 seconds before snatching up the receiver.

"Hello, Bing - er, Darcy resid - uh... Hello?"

Lizzie blinked, unsure whether it'd be appropriate to laugh. "Will? Is that you?"

"Elizabeth? Aren't you at school?"

"Uh, yeah, I was just calling to check in with Richard - um, why are you at the house?"

"My afternoon meetings got canceled so I thought I'd come back early, do paperwork from the house. Is that okay?"

"_No it's bloody well not okay, I had plans with Nate! Plans involving Barney and building blocks!"_ came Richard's tinny voice from a distance. Lizzie and Darcy snorted simultaneously.

"Alright, well you sound busy with the two children - " Lizzie drawled.

"_I heard that!_"

" - so I'll leave you alone."

"When do you finish, again?" asked Darcy, voice absentminded. She guessed he was revising the aforementioned paperwork and rolled her eyes.

"Around two thirty. I'll be back at the house by three. Listen, can you figure out dinner? I'll take chicken pad thai, extra hot sauce."

There was a pause. "Uh... I can't make Thai food."

There was an even longer pause. Lizzie half suspected she'd swallowed her voice box. (Um, ew.) "You what?"

"Did you expect me to be able to?"

"You're_ cooking?"_

"Is that a problem?"

"You can _cook?"_

_"Can I stay for dinner?"_

"No," replied Darcy, sounding mildly irritated at this point. Lizzie rolled her eyes again.

_"Why not?"_

"Because you have that date with that model."

_"I do? Oh, I do."_

"How did that happen?" Lizzie asked, interested in spite of herself.

"God only knows."

_"Oi!" _

"Shut up, Richard. We have to pick up Ana before any dinner is made."

"Right, she's coming in today. What time is that, again?"

"Four. I'll go, you stay with Nate."

"Or we could all go," Lizzie suggested. "Nate could use an outing."

"No, the terminal's bound to be crowded and he'd just be fussy."

Lizzie frowned at his tone but failed to come up with a sufficient counter-argument. "Fine. Are you sure you'll be back in time to cook?"

"It'll be fine. Do we have baby food?"

"You're the one in the house; check."

"Okay, there's - oh, fuck, Nate's crying. Dammit, Richard, what did you do?"

_"Nothing!"_

"Would you stop cursing around Nate?" Lizzie interjected, frowning. "Go pick him up and pat him on the back or something - "

"His diaper's full, I doubt picking him up would help - "

"Then go _change_ it, why are you still on the phone?"

"You called for a reason and I'm still waiting to hear it."

"I was just _checking in_, would you go take care of the kid?"

"I'm going over to the changing table now, would you stop with the italics?"

"Jesus." Lizzie rubbed at her eyes and swore. "Eyeliner. Right. I wear makeup."

"Stop swearing around Nate," Darcy replied.

Lizzie actually pulled the receiver from her ear and stared at it. Was William Darcy feeling _smug?_

"Go fuck yourself, Darce."

And then she hung up.

* * *

Nathaniel was down for his afternoon nap by two forty five, and that left Darcy a small slot of time to finish up his work. Richard had reluctantly left an hour ago, promising Nate juice boxes and Blue's Clues reruns despite Darcy's continued comments of, "He's only a year old, Richard, he doesn't understand what you're saying."

Darcy spread several files out on the kitchen table and pulled up Excel spreadsheets, checking numbers and going over reports. He tried to keep phone conversations quiet and checked on Nate more often than strictly necessary. Despite this, he felt jittery the entire time Nate was out of eyesight. It was true that he'd raised Ana since she was six years old, but a six years old girl was much different from the delicate bundle that was a one year old boy. Darcy felt quite out of his depth, especially since Lizzie seemed to have a more innate grasp of what Nate wanted whenever he was crying. He eventually gave up on his last analysis report and wandered into Nate's nursery, sprawling out in the rocking chair by his crib.

His godson was still sleeping soundly, on his stomach with drool oozing onto the blankets. Darcy felt tired himself after a night of constantly getting up to placate a fussy baby and felt his eyelids start to sag. As if sensing impending rest, Nate started to snuffle insistently. Darcy dragged himself up and carefully picked him up, settling back into the chair and patting Nate's back clumsily. He felt completely clueless, having never really eased a child back to sleep before this whole ordeal, but Nate seemed to be satisfied for he settled back into slumber.

Darcy checked the clock. It was nearly time for Lizzie to be back, and after that he had to head out to Newark to pick Ana up from the airport. He didn't want her to miss too many classes (after all, freshman year was important), but he also understood her need to see Nate. She was an aunt now, and although he himself felt woefully unprepared he had to realize that Ana must be feeling the weight of responsibility as well, all the way out in Chicago. Darcy patted Nate's back meditatively, staring at a cartoon giraffe on the wallpaper opposite him. Their entire lives had shifted off kilter because of this tiny human being, and the worst part was that Charlie, long one of the central steadying figures in Darcy's life particularly, was no longer there to help him through the transition.

Darcy suddenly missed his best friend more than words could say. He blinked, now glaring at the giraffe, and tried to keep himself in check. There was no use in breaking down in front of a sleeping baby.

The warm weight of both Charlie's child and repressed grief had him soon drifting off as well.

* * *

Catherine de Bourgh prided herself on being a competent woman. She owned a significant portion of both branches of Darcy Corporations, was considered a member of the upper echelons of American society, came from an old line of English nobility, and had excellent musical taste to boot. Being competent meant, of course, keeping close tabs on her most favored nephew, William Darcy. The man in question had a veritable gold mine of promise that Catherine was just dying to tap into, including but not limited to high intelligence, good breeding, ample maturity, and unquestionably good looks. She knew that with the right push, he would marry the perfect woman and raise more Darcy children. He was already off to a good start, CFO of the company at only twenty eight.

Money and connections; the two things that any man really needed. All she had to do was move Caroline Bingley into a more opportune spot - the girl knew what was good for her and was more than happy to cooperate, pleasant thing that she was - and William's life would be complete.

Which was why Catherine was seething when she heard about the Bingley will.

"All I wanted," she raged to her cowering chihuahua, "was William to be well settled. Now he's chained to some Bingley spawn and another Bennet to boot!" She scooped up the terrified dog. "What on earth are we going to do, Anne? I think at least a phone call is in question. No, maybe a summons. I'll have to see all three of them right away. Yes," she decided, collapsing dramatically onto her bed, "they'll simply have to come visit. Oh, my head. I need a cold compress. And a martini."

* * *

Lizzie let herself into the house, slipping off her pumps and tugging her hair loose. It was eerily quiet. She frowned. Darcy was supposed to be tapping away at his keyboard in a few rooms over, and there was no way that Nate would deign to stay silent for more than a few moments. Yet she had parked her own car right next to Darcy's. A shard of panic pierced her thoughts and she scrambled to the playroom, breath leaving her lungs when finding it empty. She flew up the stairs, hoping against hope to find someone in the nursery, and threw the door open wide -

- to find a sleeping Nathaniel Bingley snuggled into an equally unconscious William Darcy.

She inhaled sharply, sagging against the door frame. She slid down to sit at its base, wood digging into her spine. The sunlight slanted across the room and onto her shoulders, warming her skin. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, forehead touching her knees and arms wrapped around her thighs. She only moved when Darcy stirred, and that was just to look up at him.

Will was always handsome, but Lizzie decided he looked best when he'd just woken up. Slightly disoriented and very fuzzy, he stared at her with clouded blue eyes under a mop of mussed hair. "When did you get home?" he asked, voice scratchy.

"A few minutes ago," she guessed, pulling at her pencil skirt disinterestedly. His gaze traced the curve of her calves before he snapped back to her, tips of his ears coloring pink. She pretended not to notice as she stood up. "You have to get to Newark by four, so you'd better leave now. It's nearly three fifteen."

"Ah, good point - " He made to get up but suddenly remembered the sleeping Nate on his shoulder. Cupping the child's head, he lay the infant carefully down in the crib, making small soothing noises when Nate fussed. Lizzie watched, mouth agape. "What?"

"How did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Putting a kid to bed is the same no matter what age. Ana had a rebellious period after our parents passed and refused to go to bed until she literally fell asleep on me most nights."

"Oh." Lizzie suddenly envisioned a tiny, golden haired Georgiana clinging stubbornly to a tired sixteen year old Darcy, both their eyes drooping as he struggled to draw the covers over her limbs. It made her inexplicably sad.

"Yeah. The therapist says sometimes people get paranoid about losing other people after a major death. She'd panic if she didn't know where I was."

"You're awfully talkative after waking up," Lizzie noted, fingers itching to push a tuft of hair out of his face.

He drew back, mouth tightening. "Sorry."

"No, I... No. It's nice."

He gave her an inscrutable look. "Alright. Uh. I'm going to go now."

"Right."

"Yeah."

"Bye then."

"Good bye."

Darcy slid out of the room and Lizzie settled into the rocking chair he'd just vacated, pulling it closer to Nate's crib. "Things are getting weirder and weirder, babe," she whispered, hearing the front door creak closed.

* * *

Ana was subdued as Darcy loaded her duffel into the back of his car. Understandable, of course - the bustle of airports and the stale air of planes always wore him out too - but on closer inspection he noticed a distinct red tint to her eyes. He pressed his lips together and chose not to comment, knowing his sister would speak sooner or later.

Sure enough, about halfway down the I-287, Ana spoke from the ball she'd curled herself into. "How is she?"

"Who, Elizabeth?"

"No, Whoopi Goldberg. Yes, Lizzie."

Darcy bit back a grin. "She's... hanging in there. It hasn't really hit yet, I think." Ana made a humming noise in the back of her throat. "It's coming to her in bits and pieces. She's very quiet. Almost reclusive. A little snappy."

"Well, she's always snappy around you," Ana remarked, tracing hearts on the dashboard. "She loves me, though." Darcy declined comment, unable to refute either point. It was no secret that Lizzie and Darcy could barely stand each other, but for some odd reason she and Ana got on very well. Darcy blamed their similar temperaments; Lizzie and Ana blamed his sour one.

"Nate is a very outgoing baby. He'll take to you easily," Darcy said after a while, turning to look at Ana briefly. She nodded, face suddenly drawn. "I'm making dinner." She nodded again. "Is there anything you want?" A head shake this time. He sighed and gave up.

The rest of the car ride was silent.


End file.
